"129 days till Run Out Date!! Fucking Glory to Spearhead Squadron!!"
On an inner wall of a black garage that had already faded in color due to weather, there was an old blackboard picked up by soone unknown, and those large words in colored chalk stated the countdown.
Shinn lifted his eyes from his clipboard, and spotted this one optimistic line on the board. In fact, they should have a hundred and nineteen days. When Kujo was assigned to this squadron, he would update that number every day.
Ten days ago, he died.
Shinn had stopped to look at the countdown, and lowered his head back to the maintenance records on the clipboard. The "Juggernaut" remained on standby in the hangar. He went towards his personal unit.
The bright red eyes of a Pyrope, and the short hair of the Onyx. He had inherited the noble bloodlines of both the Pyropes and the Onyx, and of who they called the Eighty Sixers, he had the most defining characteristics of the Colorata.
His handso face was etched with poise and a calmness unbefitting of his age, sowhat aloof, and his slender body and white skin reflected his old identity as a mber of the Empire’s nobility. The landscape of the Eastern frontier was mostly dominated by forests, grasslands, and wetlands, yet he was dressed in desert camouflage of dirt yellow and dark brown, for those were salvaged from the corpses in the deadstock of the Republic. The collar was ssy, but he did not have to tidy himself, for no superior was there to supervise. The blue scarf was wrapped around his neck.
The sound of machinery churning echoed in the hangar, as maintenance continued on while the repair crew were growling at each other. At the courtyard before the hangar, there were a bunch of people playing so two vs two basketball with strange rules. A leisurely guitar riff ca from sowhere, an old ani song being played. Kino was lazing in his cockpit with its transparent hatch, reading a porno, and waved at Shinn once he spotted the latter approach.
It may have been the frontlines, but the mbers of this base had it free and easy on days without battle.
According to the report sent to the Handler, it should be the ti for patrol in the Contest Area. This should have been a daily routine, but the squadron had deed it to be pointless, and did not do so. Of those who wanted to go out and about, they went to the nearby towns to scavenge, while the others went down to work on the chores they were assigned (cooking, washing clothes, cleaning, planting vegetables, feeding the hens, and so on), or just killed ti.
The military boots echoed crassly upon the floor, and following that was a bellow louder than a tank's, one that echoed through the hangar.
"Shinn! Shinei Nouzen! You made a ss again, you bastard!"
Like a cockroach, Kino scampered from the cockpit to the shadows, while Shinn rely stared at the shouter with a blank face.
"What?"
"What, you say, Undertaker!? You bastard—!"
Quickly storming towards Shinn was a man with the savage face of a watchdog, donning sunglasses plus a few strands of white hair amidst the grey, a chanic who was approximately fifty, wearing oil-stained clothes.
The maintenance chief of Spearhead Squadron, Lev Audreht. The sixteen-year-old Shinn was considered a senior amongst the Processors, but Audreht was a survivor of the first batch of recruits nine years ago, an elder amongst the seniors.
"Why do you have to wreck the machine so much every ti you sortie? The actuator and the dampener are rattling again. Its wheels aren’t that stable, how many tis have I told you to stop being reckless!?"
"I’m sorry."
"You think a simple apology will settle this!? I’m not making you apologise, I’m changing you for the better right here. One of these days, you’re going to die in so stupid battle! We’re already running out of spare parts, and until the next resupply, repairs are unlikely!"
"What about the second unit?"
"Yeaaahhh we have the second unit all thanks to that certain leader wrecking the units until we had only two spare units left! Maintaining your personal unit alone takes triple the amount of ti it does for the other Processors. Who do you think you are, a Prince!?"
"The feudal system was abolished in the revolution three hundred years ago."
"You sure are a shitty brat… given how you’re wearing them out and wrecking them, two or three units won’t be enough until the next resupply and sortie dates, you hear !? What do you want to do, pray for you not to wreck it? What next, hope the scrap tal won’t co haunting you over the next hundred years or sothing, huh!?"
"Fido probably had Kujo’s unit scavenged."
Shinn said these words with his usual monotonous tone, and Audreht was montarily silent.
"Yeah, we can get so spare parts from that Kujo’s unit… but I don’t want to do it. Seriously, don’t you think sothing is wrong about it? Putting on the unit of the dead onto your own?"
Shinn turned his head around slightly, and pointed at the armor of his personal "Juggernaut," the "Undertaker." There was a spray painted skeleton wielding a shovel beneath the canopy, one without a head.
Audreht could only grimace.
"No point nitpicking the details now… this is what you an huh, Undertaker?"
The elderly chanic nodded in thought, and turned to the ajar hangar shutters, at the endless plains of Spring.
The sky, so tall, so distant, was blue and cloudless, lting everything beneath it. Under it, the lapis-colored Cornflower and the erald young grass glittered, the scenery depicted endless as it beca the grave of millions of Eighty-Sixers scattered all over the battlefield.
The Eighty-Sixers had no graves. They did not exist, and naturally, had no graves; even reclaiming their corpses was forbidden.
The pigs with the appearance of humans had no right to rest, and no freedom to be mourned over by their friends. That was the state of the world created by their own country nine years ago, and still maintained up to this point.
"That Kujo was blown to smithereens, wasn’t he?"
"Yeah."
Automated mines, faceless anti-personnel weapons with four limbs, their bodies filled with explosives; they were hideous, so resembling humans to an extent such that when viewed from a distance, they could be mistaken for casualties. Kujo went to assist another squadron in a night skirmish, and picked one up.
"Now that’s just great. He’s there now, right?"
"Probably."
Personally, Shinn did not believe in the existence of Heaven or Hell, but he was willing to believe Kujo’s soul had left this place, and found its solace.
Audreht gave an intriguing look.
"That Kujo’s lucky to be in the sa squadron as you when he died… these guys too."
The ball entered the hoop, and the tattered net swayed as the court erupted in cheers. The ani song echoed in the company of the guitar riff, together with the random lyrics as delighted singing reverberated across the farms within the camp.
Audreht knew very well that the scenery before them was never to be seen in any of the other squadrons.
Continuous battles. Daily patrols against the ‘s raids. Extre tension and fear would drain a person’s psyche, and across battles, friends would be lost. As every day was critically arduous for them, they had no possible tis for any daily human life, let alone relaxation or entertainnt.
Yet this squadron could relax, and not worry about any enemy raids, despite being unable to avoid any raids.
"…These guys here are able to live peacefully because of you, Shinn."
"The one with three tis the armor maintenance of the other processors is , right?"
Audreht was left speechless. Shinn could only shrug upon facing the displeased look beneath the sunglasses.
"Brat… just a little joke, and you took it for real."
"I do feel bothered by this. Though I haven’t expressed this through actions."
"Fool. Us chanic’s job is to make sure you brats co back alive. One or two units isn’t much as long you guys co ho. We've got to repair them no matter how tough it is."
He rattled off this spiel of words, and turned aside bashfully.
"…Anyway, our Handler has changed again. What kind of person is it this ti?"
Silence.
"…Yeah."
"Yeah… say sothing…"
"That seems to be the case."
Due to the frequent changes, Shinn had long forgotten their nas. In fact, the Processors would never care about the existence of the Handlers.
For the Handlers had long abandoned their duties. Once there were one too many Eintagsflieges, the radar would be unable to transmit the data, and the HQ in the mainland far away would be able to command effectively. Thus, the Processors would never care about the Handlers, for their existences did not matter.
Thus, the duty of the Handler was rely relegated to supervising the Processor, and that was the job's scope. The mission the Handler was left with, was to suppress the rebellious spirit of the Eighty-Sixers, using the Para-RAID that allowed them to monitor every action, and thoroughly dominate them.
Shinn recalled the infrequent conversations over the past week, and said,
"Got more writing work. Looks like I have to write a new patrol report every week."
"…They haven’t been reading them, and the only audacious one sending the sa carelessly written reports from five years ago is you."
To wit, he did not change the dates and location, and ever since then, they had never went on patrol, so everything included in the patrol was a sham. Shinn was dumbfounded that such reports remained undetected.
"Did you send a past docunt here on accident?" He recalled the calm, silver bell-like voice pointing out this issue, and sighed. "Never thought you would have a careless mont." She chuckled as she said, her laughter filled with pure kindness and sincerity.
"On the day she was appointed, we synchronized as she wanted to greet us, and she said we are to keep in contact in the future, so there’ll be contact at least once a day. I guess it’s a rare type among the Republic’s army."
"Sounds like a kind one… well, she’s going to suffer now. Poor one."
Shinn had the sa thought, and did not answer.
In this world, justice or ideals were both powerless and pointless—
"…Yes."
And for so reason, Shinn turned towards the endless plains of Springs, as though soone had beckoned for him.
"Ba dum tss! Now this is really a 'Pig living outside the Grand Mur!'"
"Very funny, Haruto."
At the cookhouse of the army, Seo, who bravely volunteered to control the fire of the massive pot containing the berry jam, bluntly retorted at the tomfoolery of the boy in his squadron. He was a Jade, with blond hair and green eyes, sixteen years old, a little short and scrawny.
The Rubies boy Haruto hanging the massive wild boar at the entrance of the courtyard opened his arms wide to emphasize his delight, and scratched his head.
He did not have any duties for the day, and went boar hunting in the nearby forest.
"Hmm, what’s with the lack of reaction? That was funny, right?"
"If I have to say, it’s a cold joke… but well."
Seo dropped the sketch book he had in hand, and sized up the hunt before his eyes. It was probably dragged over by a "Juggernaut," but it might have been difficult for one to hunt it, for it was a monstrously large boar.
"This is amazing. It’s big."
"Isn’t it!? We’re having a barbeque tonight! Where’s Raiden? And Angel? I want to switch dinner duty with them."
"Well, Shinn’s the one in charge today. Raiden went to 'town' to search for stuff, while Angel and the other girls are in charge of washing clothes today."
Haruto stared at Seo.
"When was that decided?"
"Probably… after breakfast."
"It’s almost noon."
"Yep."
""…""
Even though they had to do the laundry for the entire camp, with six people washing, it would be impossible for them to not be done.
The washing point was by the riverside, and it’s a bright sunny Spring day.
Haruto broke into a leer.
"…So now they’re bathing. The river’s Heaven now, right!?"
"Before you go to Heaven for real, they do all have guns with them."
Haruto froze up imdiately. Seo sighed hard, took up the wooden scoop, and stirred the pot. Once he saw that that the berry jam was almost done, he extinguished the fire.
He was about to close the lid when his Para-RAID activated.
When he was commissioned, Seo had a RAID device implanted into the back of his neck, and there was also an earring data tag for registration synchronization. The RAID device and the earring activated at the sa ti, creating a hallucinatory heat. He tapped at his earring with his fingertip, and switched to communication mode.
"Activate…"
Once the Para-RAID was synchronized, Seo’s green eyes beca icy cold. Not far away was Haruto, the latter’s hand cupping his ear as the smile vanished from his face, with whom he exchanged looks with.
"Shinn… what now?"
The washing point was at the riverside. The river was wide, and lots of water body could be seen, the six female mbers of Spearhead were enjoying a water fight amidst the river flow.
"What are you doing, Kaie. Hurry over."
Krena stopped in her tracks once she spotted her fidgeting squadmate, and called out to the latter. She had short Agate brown hair and the golden topaz eyes of a cat.
She had taken off her combat uniform and tied the sleeves on her waist, the olive drab tank top showing the curves of her body in the middle of the day, but none of her friends were bashful despite being dressed as such.
"No, well, thinking about it, it’s a little embarrassing…"
Kaie was a black haired girl with black eyes and white silky skin of ivory. Though her tone was similar to a boy’s, she was a girl. Her eyes were slightly red, probably mindful of the tank top sticking to the body. The ponytail as long as a knight’s helt decoration draped upon her flat cleavage, giving off an alluring vibe.
"And is it really okay for us to be having a water fight… warrgh!!"
Angel, with her blueish-silver hair scattered on the back, scooped water with her hands and splashed it at Kaie. The forr did not remove her uniform, but she had her zipper pulled to her belly, and for this posh lady, it was a daring getup for her. The silver hair proved her identity as an Adularia, but as she had inherited the light blue eyes of her great grandmother, a Celesta, she was deed as an Eighty Six by the radicalized Republic, and banished to the borders.
"You’re being so serious, Kaie. It’s fine, our clothes are washed anyway."
The other girls started to chi in,
"And Shinn will understand."
"Ah yes. He also said it’s hot today. Showed a rare smile even."
"Well that’s kind of understandable, even from that stone-faced leader."
Saying that, they suddenly smiled at Krena.
"Th-That’s not it! That’s not what I ant!"
"What’s so good about that guy who always seem to have sothing on his mind?"
"I said it’s not!"
"Anyway, your thoughts, Kaie?"
"Shinn? Hmm, I personally don’t think he’s bad. Not much of a talker, stoic, but he’s fine."
"Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Wait a sec, Akie!?"
Krena suddenly panicked, and Kaie stifled her laugh. Krena really was easy to read.
"I see, I see. But since nobody's got him, I’m going to strike first. Let’s show him an Eastern ‘night raid’ tonight, as quickly as possible…"
"K-Kaie!? E-Erm, I don’t have any thoughts about Shinn, but, I don’t think that’s good! You sh-should be more like a Yamato Nadeshiko, or sothing."
Krena reacted flusteredly, and the girls smirked in unison.
"""You’re so cute, Krena."""
A mont later, and Krena realized she was had.
"Hey!"
"Yo, found you."
The forest rustled, and their squadmate Daiya showed his face. He was a tall lanky one, with bright blond hair and erald eyes befitting a Sapphire.
Just to note, he was a boy.
"""KYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"""
"WAHHH!!!!"
Daiya was assaulted by the supersonic weapons from all the won, who were probably equipped with such weapons since birth, along with all kinds of throwable items, and he hastily retreated behind the shrubs.
"Hey! Who threw a pistol!? It’s dangerous if it’s loaded!"
"""KYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"""
"WAHHH!!!!"
Daiya, struck directly during this second assault, finally went silent.
The girls hastily put on their clothes, and Angel approached.
"So, Daiya, what is it?"
"It’d be great if you could ask ‘Are you alright?’ with a cute voice now, Angel."
"Well are you fine Daiya?"
"Ah, my bad, please don’t say that with a blank face or I’ll cry…"
Kaie latched the velcro of her combat uniform, saw that the others had dressed up, and said,
“Yep, Daiya, you can co out now… what is it?"
"Ah yes. Actually, I have a part-ti job as a ssenger for today."
It seed soone had requested that he deliver a ssage. Krena used her arms to futilely cover her voluptuous body that could not be camouflaged by the combat uniform, pouting unhappily.
"You could have contacted us through the Para-RAID. Why co here?"
Daiya scratched his head.
"Well, won’t it be awkward to communicate with you girls through Para-RAID when you’re playing around, and that I’ll accidentally eavesdrop on your love stories? Most likely it’s about ‘Krena really likes Shinn~’ or sothing like that."
"Wha…!"
Krena’s face went beetroot upon hearing him speak with a cutesy tone she would never use, and the female squadmates next to her started chatting away.
"Hmm. Peeping’s unforgivable, but this decision is the right one."
"We personally don’t mind, but Krena definitely can’t take it."
"And we were talking about this just now."
"Oh yeah, if Shinn’s synchronized with us next ti, have her say it out loud. Let’s see his reaction then."
"Krena just said that Shinn was horrible, always the stone-faced death god, never changing his expressions, not cute at all."
"I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I didn’t say that! Stop it already!!"
"""You’re so cute, Krena."""
"WAHHHH!! You idiots!!!"
Krena, who was teased by everyone present (including Daiya), cupped her head as she scread.
Kaie was huffing her shoulders as she laughed, and asked,
"So, what is it about? Whatever you’re supposed to say."
Upon hearing that, Daiya imdiately erased all expression from his face.
"Ahh… it’s from that Shinn."
And upon those words, the girls’ faces tensed up imdiately.
Man does not live on bread alone.
Thousands of years ago, an ethereal savior once said so, and to this day it remained a classic adage. In a person’s life, there is always a need for additional things to enrich the mind and body, like snacks, coffee, music, gas, and such. The white swines of the Republic who dumped them into this Hell never gave them anything other than the bare minimum, for they probably assud there was no need to.
On the other hand, if Man wanted to live on, the primary issue would be to first fill the stomach.
"Alright Fido, we've got a problem here."
It was a town reduced to rubble, and from ti to ti, they would search this town for so food that could be preserved for long, so vegetables growing in the gardens of so hos, pets that had beco wild after escaping from captivity in the chaos of war, and abandoned entertainnt.
They were at a plaza buried under the rubble. The Vice-Commander Raiden put down the synthesized food and the compressed bread, produced in the base’s factory and obtained from the ergency storeroom of a town hall raid shelter. His uniform was loose, showing his massive, tall body. He was a pure-blood Eisen, his dark tal short head and sharp face showing a robotic body.
The "Scavenger" was a drone that would tail the "Juggernaut" and resupply the latter with ammunition and energy packs. It was lanky, with four short legs, unappealing in appearance. At this point, one such "Scavenger" opposite him had its head lowered, sizing up the objects before it through the lens-shaped optical sensor.
"Which one is the trash?"
"Pi."
Fido imdiately reached out its chanical arm and tossed the synthesized food aside.
Raiden watched the white object roll afar, and picked up the bread left behind, chewing on it. Even a drone knew it was trash. The tongues of those white swines must have been infected given how they had just flatly deed it as food.
All Concentration Camps and bases had production plants and automated factories for the necessities required for battle.
The power source and production control inputs ca from the underground cables, coming from the other side of the Wall, and this was the automated food resupply system that was needlessly posh. However, the ones controlling this system were the white swines who had deed them as pigs, and the produce were of the bare minimum quality, the thing called food that was synthesized out of it looking like plastic bombs, without exception, and the taste so unpleasant, one might beco dumber.
Thus, one would have to search through the dumps abandoned nine years ago if real food was to be found. Luckily, this squadron had no need for patrol, and lots of ti and energy packs could be conserved for the squadmates to search through towns while piloting the "Juggernaut."
"So Fido, we’re looking for stuff other than that trash today. Get as much as you want, including other kinds of food."
"Pi."
Raiden, seated on the ground like a delinquent, stood up, and Fido followed him with creaking footsteps. One of their missions as "Scavengers" was to fill their cockpits with anything from the debris of the machines, including bullet casings. Raiden’s instructions however were a little weird.
To wit, the term "Scavenger" was just a moniker. If the supplies on hand were insufficient in battle, they would pick up usable items from destroyed "Juggernauts" or other "Scavengers." Out of battle, they would wander the battlefield, and pick up items that could be used. Thus, the Processors simply called them "Scavengers." They were reliable squadmates, alleviating the worries about insufficient ammunition or energy packs, vultures who greedily searched their dead.
Fido was a "Scavenger" who followed by Shinn’s side for five years.
It was said that it was picked up by Shinn after the latter’s squad encountered an enemy assault, and he ended up as the lone survivor, not completely destroyed, but its mobility lost.
It had the bare minimum learning capability, but a re broken robot that was picked up would not have the intelligence for gratitude. Ever since then, Fido would always prioritize Shinn as the one to resupply, would follow him no matter the squad he was assigned to, and be by his side imdiately whenever he sortied. Unlike the "Scavengers" who would not bother about feelings, it did showcase so semblance of loyalty. It was an old model that began service in the beginning of the war, and as it had been in service for long, it probably learned more things.
And to this drone that obediently followed its master, Shinn rely nad it as "Fido." A na appropriate for a dog. Like Pochi or Shiro… as expected, there was sothing wrong with that lad’s head.
"Pi."
"Hm?"
Fido suddenly stopped behind Raiden, and the latter turned around.
He looked over at where the optical sensors were aiming, and saw the white bones that had long faded in color, huddled up at the bottom of a massive tree giving in the shadows of the rubble.
"…Ahh."
So that was what he was being called for. Raiden approached the corpse. The uniform was completely tattered, the dismbered arms still grabbing the assault rifle until the very end. His neck had an identification tag latched to a chain, and he did not seem to be an Eighty-Sixer. Probably, he was one of the Republic’s Orthodox army who fought nine years ago, until the very end.
A tad later, Pi, Fido let out another electronic sound, asking if it could drag so things back. Outside of battle, it would prioritize picking up leftovers from the dead, probably a habit it had picked up from Shinn. It would never touch corpses, however, for the white swines had forbidden them from reclaiming corpses.
After a pause, Raiden shook his head.
"No need… just leave him here."
He recognized this tree before him. The Sakura. It was a tree that originated from the Far East of the continent, blooming with flowers when Spring started. This year, during the blooming season, per Kaie’s suggestion, every mber of the squad visited this eyecatching tree to marvel the flowers. The pink petals rged into the night as the full moon illuminated it back then, making it beautiful.
The soldier remained on the carpet of petals, looking up at the radiant flowers; there was no reason to bury him and deny him the light of day.
This may have been one of the Albas, but he did experience battle, and was a warrior who gave his body for his country; he should not be deed a white swine.
After a short mont of silence, he looked up, and felt a hallucinatory heat from his ear.
"—To all forces on a stroll. Do you hear ?"
"Seo? What is it?"
The clear voice could be heard within striking distance. As representative of all synchronized mbers in the dumps, Raiden responded.
"A sudden change in the weather report. A storm is coming."
Raiden narrowed his eyes. To the East, in the skies above the areas controlled by , so faint silver could be seen spreading, the color so faint that he, who had exceptional vision, had to squint his eyes to pick out.
The Eintagsfliege of the
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